


Lost In The Dark

by sweaterpawnoctis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Football Player Liam, Football Player Louis, Football Player Niall, M/M, Model Zayn, Photographer Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 10:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1222447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweaterpawnoctis/pseuds/sweaterpawnoctis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Zayn and Liam fight a lot.</p><p>Actually, to be more accurate, Liam yells at Zayn more often than not and Zayn cries as he fights to stay silent, seeing as that is what Liam has made clear is what he desires from the older boy.</p><p>But it hadn’t always been that way.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost In The Dark

Zayn and Liam fight a lot.

 

Actually, to be more accurate, Liam yells at Zayn more often than not and Zayn cries as he fights to stay silent, seeing as that is what Liam has made clear is what he desires from the older boy.

 

But it hadn’t always been that way.

 

Liam use to be charming and nice. He would take Zayn out and show him off like he was some award he got at school. When people looked at them, he would hold Zayn’s hand and squeeze their fingers together, lightly. Lips would press against his cheek and the backs of his shoulders softly as compliments would pour through Liam’s mouth into the older boy’s ear. He bragged to everyone about his ‘ _amber-eyed lover_ ’ and always kept his eyes skimming Zayn’s body.

 

What Zayn had failed to notice then was how everyone else’s eyes did the same and that Liam said and did the things he did to make others _jealous_. He talked Zayn up to make him sound desirable and soaked up the envious glances everyone gave them. Gave _him_. He fed off the pure want people had for Zayn and the obvious oblivion the older boy had for it. There mustn’t have been a doubt in Liam’s mind that Zayn had no idea what exactly had been going on. That Zayn had no clue as to what all these little things really did for him and not Zayn himself.

 

Later, that would make Zayn realize and understand what Louis meant when he referred to the raven-haired boy as Liam’s ‘ _trophy wife_.’

 

After that, he would see what Niall meant when he said that Louis hadn’t been saying that in a good way, by _any_ means.

 

\----

 

See, Zayn is a model for some clothing line Liam doesn’t really care for. To Liam, he is just really pretty and catches people’s attention like metal to a magnet. It doesn’t help that Liam is also quite known for playing football professionally and is constantly being followed by the media. All the more reason for him to have something to sling his arm around and make people fawn over and drool more. Zayn is perfect for the job in every possible way. He just wishes he wasn’t.

 

Except, the raven-haired boy isn’t up for the constant attention. Not from people that aren’t directly involved with him. He doesn’t care about other people looking at him outside of his job. He doesn’t go out and cause scenes or attend parties that aren’t work related. He doesn’t even really try to look good when leaving his flat. He prefers to stay home and read, maybe do some art, play some videogames. Simple and easy things. He likes to just _be_.

 

In the beginning, everything had seemed fine and Zayn had chalked up all their events out and pictures taken as Liam just happy to be with him, wanting people to see how unashamed of the older boy he was, but then things became more and more public. Liam started just talking about Zayn for hours on end, which he had to get use to, apparently, because it would never stop.

 

Though now, those things Liam talks about are more _personal_ and sometimes it even makes Zayn a tad bit uncomfortable.

 

However, Liam wouldn’t say these things to the world. No, he has a reputation to think of, but never does he give any thoughts to his boyfriend’s. However, when with Louis and Niall, his best mates and also teammates, or other people at a small party, he does tell them how loud and submissive Zayn is behind closed doors. How cute and needy he is to be filled and ‘ _properly fucked_ ,’ while ignoring the humiliating blush that creeps up on the older boy’s cheeks every single time. Louis and Niall, bless their souls, always try and change the subject for the sake of Zayn, but almost always fail.

 

He gives them props for at least trying.

 

"Why don’t you ever stop him?" Niall had once asked while they were in Liam’s kitchen. It had been another get-together with Liam’s teammates and some of the models Zayn works with. He was only allowed to invite _three_ friends and Liam got to choose who they were.

 

"He just.. Likes to talk about me, he says," Zayn had whispered, shrugging his shoulders like it was nothing even though it wasn’t. He honestly hated how clingy and girly Liam had made him out to be. Telling everyone he begged for it and would tease him all day. The younger boy seemed to fail to mention that he was always the one who teased and asked, or more like _demanded_ , Zayn to beg for him. For _it_.

 

He still does it anyway to make Liam happy, or at least, satisfied enough to leave him alone about it later.

 

"That’s not just talking about you, mate. He’s making it out like you’re some sleazy whore. Doesn’t that bother you?" Louis had asked after when he came in, grabbing another beer and offering one to Zayn. The taller boy shook his head though, and waved his hand dismissively.

 

"I can’t drink. Liam says those are for him and his guests," Zayn had said with a quiet voice. That had made Louis furrow his eyebrows and frown.

 

"You are his guest _and_ you’re his _boyfriend_ ," the Doncaster boy had pointed out, making Niall nod in agreement.

 

"I’m not a guest. I live here, Louis.." Zayn had mumbled, watching Niall arch his back away from the counter he was leaning on and place his beer on the marble.

 

"You live here now? What about your flat? Your work is halfway across the city!"

 

"Liam said he wanted me to move in. It makes sense, doesn’t it? He wants us to be able to spend more time together. Said he missed me a whole lot when I was at home, away from him." Zayn bit his lip and rubbed the side of his neck with the palm of his hand before dropping it to his side again. When he glanced back up at the other two boys, he had sighed an unsure, "that’s what people do when they love each other, don’t they?" He hadn’t realized how naïve he had sounded back then as Louis shook his head.

 

" _Does_ he love you, Zayn? Has he ever actually _told_ you he loves you?" The blonde had asked with Louis nodding along, expecting an answer from Zayn. The ink-haired boy dropped his gaze towards the floor in thought as he had realized that no, Liam hadn’t said he loved him. They had been together for nearly six months and not once had Liam said those words to him. In fact, he had brushed off Zayn when he said them, himself, or came back with an almost taunting, "I know you do, babe."

 

"It doesn’t matter. I love him enough for the both of us," was all Zayn had offered before he walked back into the living room with a beer for Liam, who had immediately pulled the older boy into his lap. The coos and teases had started the second his bum had been firm on Liam’s thigh, but he tried to ignore the way Louis and Niall were looking at him now.

 

It hadn’t been like Zayn could fix it. He still couldn’t.

 

\----

 

Zayn knows he isn’t stupid. He can tell _right_ from _wrong_. Knows what should and shouldn’t be said and done in certain situations or even relationships. So, he knows that when Liam starts controlling Zayn’s plans and telling him whom he can and can’t hang out with, it’s _wrong_. Just like when he starts to make Zayn call in for work ‘ _sick_ ’ or forces him to start eating less, it’s _wrong_ , but it’s _manageable_.

 

However, he isn’t sure when things had gotten so far that he isn’t allowed to speak unless given permission to do so. That he isn’t allowed to be out of Liam’s sight unless he is at work or Liam is at practice and at that point it really is that Zayn isn’t allowed to leave the flat without the younger boy. He isn’t allowed to have friends or go out without asking. In fact, he isn’t even allowed to have his phone and use it unless Liam has checked the caller I.D. or read the text first. With the exception for when Liam is at work. Then he is require to stalk his phone and if he waits to long to respond or answer, Zayn is in for a long night of yelling from his _boyfriend_ and crying.

 

Soon, it becomes more restrictive though. Liam starts to tell the Bradford boy when he is allowed to shower, use the restroom, sleep, leave the bed, eat, get dressed, even what to get dressed in. Everything has to be asked for permission and if he doesn’t, Liam will deny Zayn whatever it is until he has tears running down his cheeks and has felt guilty for even thinking of wanting to do what he did for at least an hour.

 

Zayn doesn’t see a problem with this, well he does, but he keeps it to himself, because Liam has told him he is ‘ _taking care of his little princess_.’

 

Louis has shaken his head at that one and Niall has told Zayn it isn’t a sincere pet name.

 

This time though, he just ignores them.

 

\----

 

It’s been eight months since Zayn has been with Liam and it hasn’t stopped. It has actually gotten worse, believe it or not. Liam has gotten to the point where he’ll drag Zayn all across town and rub him in people’s faces, acting like they are the happiest couple to exist, but when they get home, Liam practically ignores him.

 

Emotionally and mentally at least, anyways.

 

Physically, he is always there. Touching Zayn’s shoulders or running his hands under the boy’s shirt. Biting and sucking at his skin to the point where sometimes he even breaks skin. He molds and manhandles the smaller boy and place him exactly how he wants him all the time. From how he walks and cuddles to how far he wants him bent over or spread out.

 

Verbally, he is there, too. Telling Zayn what to do and what he does wrong. Constantly yelling and insulting him. Saying how he’s fat and not very pretty. How he needs to try harder and not disappoint. Calling him things such as ‘ _my little girl_ ’ and ‘ _my darling princess_.’ Sometimes he’ll even get his mates do it and it always makes the older boy feel distressed. Especially, when Louis gives him a look of pure sympathy and Niall openly glares at Liam, who only ever smirks back.

 

\----

 

It’s also that month that he meets Harry.

 

He’s working a shoot with some up and coming magazine that Zayn really wants to be in for the distraction. Liam had told him _no_ , of course, and that he was due to stay home all day and wait for the younger boy to come home.

 

He didn’t.

 

Liam doesn’t know he didn’t.

 

At first, he doesn’t even see the boy behind the camera that’s asking him to stand a certain way or make a specific face. He does everything when asked without question, because that’s all he does now. That must work though, because soon the boy behind the lens his leaning up and looking directly at Zayn and the shorter boy swears he could die from how lovely he is.

 

The photographer is all brunette curls and amazing green eyes. He’s tall, long-legged, strong arms, not to mention _inked_ , pale skin. His smile is a mile wide and charming, very inviting and warm. Did Zayn mention he has dimples? A perfect set and instantly Zayn’s heart swoons.

 

"It’s a real treat to be working with you, Mr. Malik," the boy says as he walks over to Zayn and sticks out his hand. "Harry Styles." Zayn resists the urge to roll his eyes that his last name is ‘ _Styles_ ’ and that he works as a photographer, but don’t worry, the humor is found in it.

 

"Zayn Malik," the model smiles, reaching his hand out to hold Harry’s as they shake. Harry’s hands are softer, lighter, and bigger than Liam’s. Completely different and it’s that exact reason that he lets Harry keep his hand there a little longer than he should. Which to be fair, Liam deems any touch on Zayn’s that isn’t his ‘ _too long_ ’.

 

"I just want to look over what we have so far before we get you into the next set of clothes," the curly haired boy hums, pointing with his thumb on his other hand over his shoulder in the direction of his computer. "Would you like to come look also?" He asks softly, watching the small smile cross Zayn’s face.

 

"I’d like that. Yeah."

 

\----

 

Zayn had ended up spending the entire day with Harry in the studio until they were the last people left. Harry had showed him all the photos and had actually let the older boy choose which ones he’d rather have in the magazine. They edited and organized all the desired shots and placed them on the flash drive for Harry to take to his editor in hopes they were approved.

 

"I should probably be getting home," Zayn had said quietly, wishing he could stay with Harry longer. Wishing he had been the boy he’s been praying for to come and save him. To take him away from all that hurts and brings him down. To save him from-

 

"Yeah. I mean.. I have to get going, too. My boyfriend’s waiting for me." And oh, _of course_ Harry would have a _boyfriend_. He’s absolutely beautiful and charming. His voice was always soothing and that smile never seemed to leave his lips. Who wouldn’t want to claim that? To take it home and keep it theirs.

 

His only hope at the time had been that Harry’s boyfriend was nicer than his own.

 

Especially, when Zayn finally does get home at it’s past dark, which means Liam is already at the flat, no doubt waiting to scream and shout at Zayn.

 

Except he doesn’t.

 

What’s waiting for the tan, ink-haired boy tonight, is a very pissed off and drunk Liam Payne. One that is sitting in the chair that faces the front door, only in tight boxers, and a beer in his hand. His fingers are curled tightly around the neck of the glass bottle and Zayn barely locks the door before Liam’s eyes have frozen him on the spot.

 

"I thought I told you not to go out," Liam says, nearly growls under his breath, voice thick with disappointment and it honestly kills Zayn because even though Liam is cruel towards him, he hates _disappointing_ people.

 

"It was for work," he answers quietly, dropping his head immediately when Liam places his beer down loudly against the glass coffee table and stalks towards Zayn.

 

"Did I say you could speak? It wasn’t a question. I _knew_ you disobeyed me, Zayn. You _always_ disobey me. You never do anything right and it’s exactly why no one will love you," Liam hisses and that pretty much cuts off all argument or come back Zayn could of had because _ouch_ , that fucking _hurt_ , and sadly he kind of believes the younger boy. He may be mean and hurtful, but as far as Zayn is concerned, he’s never really lied. "What? Nothing to say now, _princess_? Are you going to cry?" He taunts, making Zayn turn his head further away from Liam and that’s obviously the wrong move to make because suddenly Liam is holding Zayn’s jaw with his thumb and index finger with a bruising grip. "Strip, Zayn." He orders.

 

"W-What?" The older boy asks nervously. That doesn’t happen usually. Liam would work him up and undress him slowly until he forces Zayn to beg before moving forward. Never has he just demanded that Zayn expose and offer himself up like that.

 

"I said ‘ _strip, Zayn_ ,’ or do you not understand that either?" Liam barks out and for once, Zayn is honestly terrified of Liam. It only increases though, when he can smell the alcohol that had previously been in his mouth. He can see how dark and blown out with lust and anger Liam’s eyes are as his hands curl their fingers into Zayn’s hips. He doesn’t doubt that he’ll have bruises there by morning.

 

"L- Liam, please.. You’re drunk and u-upset. Please don’t do this. I- I’m sorry.. I’m really s-sorry," Zayn begs on his own account, glancing up at Liam through his lashes and swallowing hard when Liam gives that signature smirk.

 

"Awh. Look at you, baby. Thinking you actually get a say in this. Look at my princess thinking," Liam laughs darkly; making Zayn start to cower and pull away, but the younger boy’s hold only tightens. A squeak passes through Zayn’s lips as he is yanked to be flush against Liam’s chest with the boy’s lips to his ear. "I _own_ you, Zayn. You are _mine_ and no one else can have you. No one else will _want_ you except for me. So, why don’t you go walk your sexy little arse into our room and strip down like a _good girl_."

 

And Zayn isn’t sure what causes him that small moment of bravery or how he even manages to get the word out, but he knows the moment it passes through his lips that he’s about to learn to never say that word again. Especially, to _Liam_.

 

"No," Zayn whispers firmly, pressing his hands on Liam’s chest and trying to push away. "No. No, no, no. You won’t do this to me anymore. I- I won’t let you. I’ll tell them. I’ll tell _everyone_ what you do. I- I’ll call Louis and he’ll be so pissed if he knew all the new things you did. If he knew what you-"

 

_Smack!_

 

Zayn stills immediately when his head is violently forced to the side from Liam’s hand and that is definitely new. That has never happened before and it snaps Zayn somewhere deep down to the point where he is _done_ with this. He can’t do it anymore.

 

"Let me go! _Let me go_ , you arsehole! You don’t c-care about me! You’re t-terrible and I.. I _hate_ you!" He shouts, pounding against Liam’s chest as hard as he can before another slap is earned against the same cheek. This time, Zayn falls back into what he is ‘ _suppose_ ’ to be. Giving up his fight in shock, he looks up at Liam with tear-filled amber eyes, trying to remember if the chocolate ones in front of him had always looked so cold and distant.

 

"There we go," Liam cooes unkindly, wrapping his arms around Zayn’s waist and sliding his hands up under the boy’s shirt before coming back down and squeezing his bum firmly. A tear rolls down the tan boy’s cheek and he closes his eyes as Liam leans down to kiss and bite roughly at his neck. "Let’s try this again," he murmurs huskily into Zayn’s ear, ignoring the boy’s tears and small whimpers as Liam undresses Zayn fast and quick. Nearly ripping the boy’s clothes off before he picks him up and throws the smaller boy over his shoulder to carry him towards their room to drop him onto his back on the bed. "You’re going to _learn_ , Zayn."

 

He does.

 

\----

 

Zayn stops talking after that.

 

He never says anything to Liam as he roughly grabs his wrists and drags him around everywhere. Doesn’t stand up for himself or complain when Liam brags and boasts about him. In fact, he isn’t even really mentally there when Liam is in the room. He walks around with instruction and proves himself to be better for Liam. To not make him upset and frustrated. To obey everything asked of him because then things don’t hurt as much.

 

On one of the rare days that Zayn doesn’t have bruises covering his arms and thighs, he gets to go to work and have some free time alone without Liam. Which means he gets to see Harry again because just recently his company has decided to hire him off of that poor magazine that didn’t end up doing so well.

 

He first sees the curls and he hears the low, drawled laugh that makes a smile cross Zayn’s face in an instant because it’s the most musical thing he’s ever heard in his life. However, he moves to continue walking on by because there’s no use getting caught up with someone like Harry. The boy would never love him and definitely wouldn’t want him after the number of things Liam has done on him. Not to mention Zayn hadn’t forget Harry’s little ‘ _boyfriend_ ’ comment.

 

"Zayn!" He hears someone call and _of course_ it’s _Harry_. How could it _not_ be? That’s what Zayn’s life does to him, but Zayn pretends as though he doesn’t hear it and keeps on with walking towards the fashion department when suddenly, there’s a hand on his bicep and without a moment’s hesitation, he flinches. "Shit.. I’m sorry, mate. Didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to say ‘ _hi_ ’ because, you know, I haven’t seen you since that shoot a couple weeks ago," the younger boy explains with a smile that makes Zayn want to die more than usual because it’s honestly the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. "How have you been?" He asks cheerfully, sliding his hand down to hold around Zayn’s dainty wrist softly.

 

He wants to say he’s been terrible. That he doesn’t appreciate the blue and black covering his tan skin or the crimson that spills over it. Doesn’t favor the long, wide scratches from the nails that drag down his hips and thighs when being yanked closer. Hates how he aches and is always tired, but can never sleep. Is concerned about how easy it is to forget the last time we ate because he’s used to the empty feeling in his stomach now. How he misses the freedom to talk and do as he pleases. Wishes to leave the flat and do something as normal as grab coffee and read a good book. How he can’t stand the heartbreak of being used and abused by someone claiming to ‘ _take care_ ’ of him. How he just wants to be _happy_ and _loved_.

 

"Never better," is what he ends up going with and it sickens him how easy it is to let that lie slip through his lips now. Though it’s convincing enough for everyone else, it doesn’t seem to be enough for Harry. It looks like Harry can tell he’s lying. Can see how dull his eyes are or how weak his form is, but before he can comment on it, Zayn changes the topic to something else. "How are you and your boyfriend?" He questions and doesn’t miss the slight pull at the corner of the taller boy’s lips to form a frown.

 

"I wouldn’t know. We broke up," Harry mumbles, running his other hand through his curls. If he sees the way Zayn’s eyes light up in just the smallest amount, he doesn’t say anything about it and Zayn appreciates the gesture.

 

"I’m sorry to hear that." Zayn isn’t.

 

"It was unfortunate." It wasn’t.

 

They part ways after that, but Harry catches him just before he goes to walk out the doors of the building at the end of the day just to give him his number.

 

"Just incase you’re ever free or need to.. _Get away_. A break is always nice," the curly-haired boy offered, handing out the small piece of paper. Zayn hesitates for a moment, because it’s dangerous to let himself fall into those dimples and perfect curls. However, the older boy still isn’t stupid and he isn’t as naïve as he once was, so he knows this could be useful later on down the road. Whenever anything becomes too much, but he doesn’t know why Harry wants to try. If he knows just what’s going on.

 

Zayn isn’t sure if he _wants_ Harry to know or not.

 

"Thank you," Zayn replies with, knowing it must sound ridiculous to Harry, but it’s completely sincere from Zayn.

 

"Sometimes you just need to get away from it all," Is all Harry repeats before smiling and leaving through the doors and it’s then that Zayn has figured it out.

 

Harry _knows_.

 

\----

 

Zayn has called Harry a couple times and has even gone out to see him more than once. Liam doesn’t know, of course. He doesn’t know anything about Harry and Zayn doesn’t talk about Liam back to Harry.

 

They talk about their families and childhood memories. What they prefer to do on their free time and what they think the meaning and purpose of the universe and life is. It’s no surprise when Zayn figures out that three weeks later, he’s entirely too smitten with Harry. He could and has listened to his deep and raspy voice say silly and ridiculous for hours upon hours. His gaze is always focused on those forest green eyes unless on the rare occasions; his pink, plush lips. He often finds himself wanting to know how they feel, until he _does_ and he can’t stop _craving_ them.

 

\----

 

Harry places kisses randomly across Zayn, but his favorite is the inside of his left wrist. Though he never places them on his lips and he never forces the older boy into letting him. He knows of Liam by now, that he’s the amber-eyed boy’s boyfriend who may or may _not_ be so friendly towards him. Harry’s about a million percent sure he’s not. There have been peeks off finger print bruises around those small wrists and forearms. He’s seen glimpses of the scabs from teeth and nails on the boy’s shoulders and back from when he lifts off his jumper and his shirt under sticks to it.

 

Harry isn’t stupid. Zayn’s being controlled and hurt and in return it crushes the younger boy.

 

He _never_ voices this to Zayn.

 

Harry compliments Zayn and plays with his fingers when he knows the older boy is distracted. He listens to Zayn when he rambles on about art and life and- “ _Don’t you think that there’s meaning to everything and that everything is just one big piece of something else? It’s quite lovely and beautiful if you think really hard about it_.”

 

To which Harry always responds with- “ _I think you’re quite lovely and beautiful and I don’t have to think at all about that._ ” It’s cheesy and way too inappropriate to say to someone who has a boyfriend, but Zayn’s cheeks flush anyways as he turns his head away to hide it.

 

Zayn doesn’t feel scared or intimidated when he’s with Harry, he realizes. The other boy doesn’t expect or demand things of him and he lets Zayn speak freely as he pleases. In fact, he actually encourages it and sometimes Harry doesn’t get a word in for hours and he’s completely okay with it. More than okay. It’s even better that Zayn doesn’t even notice it.

 

It doesn’t make sense to Harry in the slightest how someone could have someone as talent, intelligent, and loving as Zayn and treat him so terribly. And though he had his doubts in the beginning, it’s when he notices that Zayn doesn’t speak highly about Liam, or really at all, that all his suspicious are confirmed.

 

Or maybe it is the way that Zayn offers to do most things, though he isn’t allowed to spend his own money. The way he instantly snaps to attention when Harry calls his name and he has that minor look of _fear_ as if he had been caught doing something wrong. However, that look is nothing like the one of pure terror when Zayn had accidentally spilt his tea on Harry, making the younger boy snap up from his seat and hiss from the heat of the liquid.

 

The burn hadn’t hurt Harry nearly half as much as when he saw Zayn get on his knees right there in the middle of the coffee shop and begged Harry for him to be allowed to make it right.

 

 _Right_.

 

Harry was sure he was going to be sick after that.

 

Hangouts are held at Harry’s flat once the year starts to get colder because Zayn is freezing to the touch without the help of the chilly air. He makes a point of having lunch ready whenever Zayn comes over and never says a thing when he sees the older boy slowly reach for the food. He cracks a smile to himself though.

 

He also finds his arm around Zayn’s shoulders when they watch telly or have his head on the younger boy’s lap, fingers in his hair, while listening to music. He lets the older boy doze and rest in his bed while Harry makes them food or works on editing pictures.

 

Then there are the days that Zayn will come over with tear stained cheeks and bruise covered wrists and hips. Those are the days that Harry will hold the smaller boy in his arms under the sheets of his bed and will stay there in silence.

 

Harry never asks and Zayn never tells.

 

Though, Harry wonders how much Zayn has to take or how far it has to go before he finally says something because it’s worse than he thinks. It’s when Harry finds Zayn at his doorstep just after nine in the morning, balled up against his flat door in nothing but a thin jumper and boxers that he knows it’s _worse_. Well, he doesn’t know it, but he can sense it. It is silent when he pulls Zayn into his arms and carries him bridal style towards his bed, but it’s the wince that Zayn gives when his bum hits the duvet that Harry _knows_.

 

Harry figures out that the marks and frightened attitude aren’t just physical abuse. It is sexual and it is often.

 

Zayn doesn’t have to tell him that.

 

Zayn doesn’t have to tell him _anything_.

 

\----

 

However, eventually it does become too much for Zayn when at home one day, Liam goes to far. Which he then wonders why all this time nothing else was ‘ _too far_ ’.

 

It’s been almost a year since Zayn has been with Liam and Zayn has just been out with Harry, no surprise there, when he comes home to find that Liam has beat him to it. It’s automatic when he has a sense of familiarity with this scene; of when this had crossed over to the even _darker_ side of things. The first night he had met Harry.

 

"You were doing so good, Zayn," Liam sighs, pushing from the wall and walking towards Zayn and the smaller boy can’t help that his body immediately goes still. His breathing slows and his lips press shut firmly against each other. He just watches Liam as he gets closer, thinking this time he’s really crossed the line. Except this isn’t even the worst part. " _Who_ is he, Zayn?" He asks, grabbing Zayn’s chin harshly and giving a smile of mock innocence. "I asked you a question and I demand an answer."

 

"W-Who?" Zayn asks quietly, but he knows he’s done. Liam’s a genius. Never failed a class. Always outsmarted the other team. Managed to make Zayn fall to his knees for him. He’s smart. Smart, built, and _mean_.

 

"The boy you’ve been following around. The one you think will take you away from all this. The one you’re _falling_ for. I’ve seen that smile before, Zayn. I use to get it a lot from you before you started _fucking up_. You use to be so _good_. A _perfect princess_. _My_ princess. Am I not _enough_ for you now? Do you need _more_? Is that it? Because I can call the team over, babe. I’m sure they’d like a go at you. Do you know what they say about you? About how long your lashes are or how beautiful your skin is. How they just want to make you cry and _ruin_ you. I think I should let them. Maybe you’d really learn then. You’d be good then, wouldn’t you?" He sneers, bringing his hands Zayn’s wrists, presses on bruises that are already there, and yanks him hard, making the shorter boy crash to his knees with a small whimper. "Maybe I should find that boy and bring him here. Show him just how _tainted_ you are. He wouldn’t _want_ you then, would he? Who am I kidding? He doesn’t want you _now_."

 

But Zayn doesn’t buy that, even if the idea of it is sending tears down his face, because Harry’s told him otherwise. The curly-haired boy doesn’t know it, but Zayn’s heard him while he’s been tucked under Harry’s arm, eyes closed and deathly silent. He’s heard the soft and warm promises of a better tomorrow. Of a peaceful escape that Harry would provide. He knows he hasn’t imagined all those longing and pleading looks Harry gives him before leaves the boy’s flat once more, only to come back the next day with more marks. He’s seen the way Harry smiles when he says he can stay longer or when his eyes glow when he laughs at something the younger boy said. It’s all proved in the way Harry softly pulls him into his lap or curls around his back in the boy’s bed and that does it. Suddenly Zayn is smiling and laughing, clearly unamused because-

 

"You are so wrong," he snickers and that gets him the first punch from Liam, firm against his jaw, making him swing to the side and have to use his hands to catch himself on the floor. That doesn’t discourage Zayn though, because he’s done now. He’s so _done_ with Liam’s _rules_ and _restrictions_. Done with getting _no sleep_ and _starving_ for days because Liam feels he isn’t skinny enough. Nevermind the fact that Zayn is still a model and it’s the people he works with that are actually telling him to gain _more_ weight. That they’re extremely worried about him.

 

"You have a lot of nerve. You live in my flat. I pay for you to live, sleep, and eat here. For your showers and clothes," Liam says, except Zayn can hear it. Can hear Liam’s voice straining to keep strong and firm, but it’s not. It’s breaking and becoming nervous because the smaller boy isn’t _listening_ anymore. He knows there’s something _better_ waiting for him right now. _Someone_ better. Someone waiting at home for Zayn to sneak a text that he got back safely and that he misses him. Waiting for Zayn to finally give him the chance to save the raven-haired boy when really, he already has. He didn’t have anything to really lose before except himself, which he always gave anyways, but now he has someone that he knows is hurting because he is and Zayn will be damned if he is going to keep hurting Harry.

 

"If you’re going to do it, do it right, mate," he provokes, turning his head back up to look at Liam with a smug smirk, despite his now busted lip. "I’m done. No more bruises. No more taunts. No more comments to your ‘ _friends_ ’ or forced fucks out of me. I’m _done_ ," he says firmly, watching Liam furrow his eyebrows and actually hesitate to bring another blow to Zayn’s already battered and broken form.

 

Liam doesn’t stop him when Zayn gets up and straightens out his clothes. Doesn’t stop him when he starts to pack his clothes, which are the only things he had been allowed to bring over from his own flat. Thankfully, he had Louis continue to pay the rent for him with the money he hid from Liam all this time. He doesn’t even move from the spot where he punched Zayn as the older boy walks in front of him. Though, he does finally lift his gaze when Zayn stands in front of him with a look of pure sympathy.

 

"I use to love you and for a while there, I _thought_ you use to love me, too. I don’t know when you felt the need to change things or when you finally thought I wasn’t good enough, but I’ll admit; you had me going for a while. I actually _believed_ for _months_ that I was _nothing_. That I wasn’t _pretty_ unless you wanted to _fuck_ me. That I didn’t have a single thought in my head. That just because I was a model and posed for pictures, that meant I didn’t care how people treated and saw my body, but you were _wrong_. I’m only sorry it took me so long to figure it out," He breathes softly, watching the way Liam seems to snap and fade back into the boy he had been before everything turned to shit. Before he destroyed something so wonderful.

 

"Zayn, I-" He tries, making Zayn scoff quietly and shake his head.

 

"I have someone waiting for me at _home_. I would like not to keep him waiting longer." And with that, Zayn leaves the flat that served as his prison for months on end. That trapped him and made him feel small. The one place he should have never felt unsafe in, but did.

 

\----

 

It’s Spring, the time for new life and beginnings. Where everything from the past dies and starts anew. It’s where the snow melts and the sun shines. Where birds sing happy in their trees and the air starts to warm around.

 

It finds Zayn in bed with a full night’s rest with a strong, protective, yet completely gentle arm over his waist. There are small puffs of breath hitting the back of his neck, tickling the small hairs there. Vaguely, he’s aware of the fact that the body behind him is conscious, but not awake. Not yet. Sunlight in pouring in through the crack in the black curtains against the wall length window parallel to the bed. The sheets are soft, cotton no doubt, and thin, but the hear from the figure behind him keeps him warm.

 

It’s been _weeks_ since Zayn has followed an order he didn’t want to. Since he’s been _bruised_ and _scared_. Because the boy he is in love with now is gentle while over him. His fingers are slow and gentle when opening him up. The kisses are feathery and light against his tan skin. The curly-haired boy pushes into him with ease and waits for Zayn to be adjusted and free of pain. He never asks for begging and he doesn’t keep Zayn right on edge for any particular reason. Zayn gets told that he’s genuinely _beautiful_ and that he’s all that other boy wants and more. He only gets ‘ _lovebites_ ’ and not bruises. One is always kept bright on that spot against his left inner wrists and Zayn has absolutely not quarrels with it.

 

There’s shifting behind him now and it drags his attention from his inner thoughts and makes him turn and curl into Harry’s chest. The pale hand sliding under his jumper to rub at his back makes him smile with joy and personal peace. Harry hums and slowly flutters his eyes open to see amber ones staring back at him, making him grin before pecking Zayn’s nose.

 

"G’morning, love," he mumbles, raspy and deep from sleep as it is every morning and of course, Zayn _still_ swoons.

 

"Morning, Haz," Zayn whispers back, leaning up slightly to kiss Harry’s lips and he feels Harry’s hand push against his back softly to guide him closer just as he slipped a leg over one of Zayn’s to pull it in between his own to tangle them together.

 

It’s simple and easy, what they are. There are no expectations except not to hurt one another. Harry goes to work with Zayn and treats him like gold. He makes him breakfast and dinner and they go out for lunch during the week. The older boy gets cuddled and kissed because he’s loved instead of for the attention. Louis rejoices the union of them together and Niall approves of Harry without a hitch. Zayn can have his friends over and get to choose who comes. He can drink with Harry and speak his mind without worry. It may have taken a while, but not as long as Harry had originally thought, but in the end Zayn is back to himself and Harry adores him even more everyday than he did the day before.

 

"I love you," Harry murmurs into Zayn’s ear as the older boy’s fingers play with the brunette curls sweetly.

 

"I love you," Zayn echoes.

 

\----

 

Harry and Zayn fight rarely.

 

Actually, to be more accurate; Harry teases and tickles Zayn while the older boy uses pillows and couch cushions to get him to stop. Telling Harry that if he doesn’t stop, he’ll pinch the taller boy’s nipples and pull on his curls, to which Harry only laughs and leans down to kiss the raven-haired boy.

 

And that’s how it should have been _all along_.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and visit me [here](http://sweaterpawnoctis.tumblr.com)!


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